David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

For Sofarita the relief from pain was more than welcome and she nestled her head on Talaban's shoulder.

The moon was bright in the sky, its light bathing the forest in a spectral glow. It was silent and ghost-like, not a breath of wind disturbing the trees. At the head of the column Suryet walked with Touchstone, neither of them speaking.

Towards dawn Suryet threw up her hand, then crouched low. The Avatars halted. Setting Sofarita down, Talaban moved alongside Suryet. She touched a finger to her lips then pointed away to the right. There were campfires in a large hollow by a stream. Suryet indicated that the column should swing to the left and move around them. Talaban nodded, and the journey began again. Talaban was tired now, and ordered an Avatar soldier to carry Sofarita. Talaban himself walked at the head of the column, alongside Touchstone and Suryet.

With the coming of the dawn they emerged from the tree line. Ahead of them was a range of mountains, but it was not the mountains that caught the eye and made the breath catch in the throat. Beyond the range was what appeared to be a black wall across the world, gigantic and dark, and stretching as far as the eye could see.

'Almec land,' said Touchstone.

It was alien and unnatural and Talaban could not tear his gaze from it. 'It stretches for hundreds of miles,' said Sofarita.

'Open ground now,' said Touchstone, pointing to the narrow plain between them and the mountains. 'Big danger.'

Talaban alerted his Avatars. All along the line strings of light appeared on the zhi-bows. 'Time to go,' he said.

Moving out onto the slope the Avatars spread out, bows ready. There was at least a mile of open ground to cover before they would reach the foot of the mountains. They were halfway across when one of the Avatars shouted a warning. Behind them they could see armed men emerging from the trees.

The chasing group was a half-mile back, but carrying Sofarita was slowing the Avatars, and Talaban knew there was little doubt that the Almecs would get into range before they reached the shelter of the slopes.

Sending half the men onward Talaban and ten Avatars dropped back. The range of the fire-clubs was around one hundred yards — half that of the zhi-bows. Talaban hoped at least to slow the pursuit.

The Almecs were running now and the gap was closing. Five hundred yards. Four hundred. 'Ready!' yelled Talaban. There were at least 500 men in the chasing force.

Three hundred yards. Two hundred.

Talaban loosed a bolt, then another, and another. The zhi-bows sang and more than thirty Almecs were blasted from their feet.

The charge continued. 'Once more!' said Talaban. Twenty more Almecs died. Still they came on.

The fire-clubs boomed. Shots slashed all around the Avatars. One man was struck in the forehead and dropped without a sound.

'Back!' yelled Talaban. The Avatars began to run across the grassland. Another man was hit, but he kept running.

''All Avatars to me!' shouted Talaban. Up ahead the soldier carrying Sofarita lowered her to the ground, retrieved his zhi-bow from Ro and turned, with the other nine bowmen, to run back to join Talaban. Forming a wide line the Avatars began to shoot into the oncoming Almecs. More than a hundred of them died before the charge broke, the remaining enemy warriors dropping to the ground and discharging their fire-clubs. Three Avatars were hit, but only one killed.

On the mountain slopes Touchstone was now carrying Sofarita, and they were almost at the tree line. Talaban waited until they were safely out of sight then led his men onto the slope. The Almecs rose from the ground and sent a volley after them. Another man was hit in the leg. He stumbled, but carried on running.

Twice more Talaban swung the Avatars to send more zhi-bolts into the enemy.

And then the Avatars reached the transient security of the trees. From here they unleashed their bolts to terrible effect on the Almec warriors exposed on the slope. More than half the enemy force had been killed before they were forced to fall back.

'One has to admire their courage,' said Questor Ro, moving alongside Talaban.

The warrior nodded. 'They certainly do not lack bravery,' he admitted. 'Where to now, Questor?'

'Sofarita says we must continue to climb. She needs to be higher than the land mass of the Almecs. Then she can really attack the Crystal Queen.'

Talaban and his men faded back from the tree line. The two wounded men volunteered to stay behind and harass the enemy. Talaban agreed, shook their hands, and moved off.

'They will die there,' said Ro.

'And they know it,' said Talaban.

Slowly they climbed on. The sounds of fire-clubs came from behind them, and the screams of dying men.

Up ahead Suryet and Touchstone had stopped near a waterfall. From the undergrowth around them rose Anajo warriors. The One-Eyed-Fox hugged Touchstone, then moved beyond him to Sofarita. 'We will hold them here,' he said. 'You must go on.'

Reaching out she took the One-Eyed-Fox by the arm. Power coursed through him. 'My thanks to you,' he said with a wide grin.

'And mine to you,' she said. 'It is a small repayment for saving my life.'

Talaban came up. The One-Eyed-Fox spoke to him, but the Avatar could not understand a word. 'He say you welcome,' said Touchstone. 'He also say second army coming from north.'

'We need a defensive position,' said Talaban. 'Somewhere narrow that we can hold.' Touchstone translated for the One-Eyed-Fox. The two men spoke swiftly. 'He say there is such a place. But with so few men we not hold long. Maybe day.'

'We need two days,' said Sofarita. 'At the very least.'

'If it is possible it will be done,' promised Talaban.

As the years passed within the Valley of the Stone Lion the workers grew ever more close knit. This had, at first, surprised Yasha. It was one thing, with the promise of riches, to commit oneself to a twenty-year contract, quite another to labour through the endless years in bleak monotony. Yet it had not been bleak. In the main the work had been joyous, as course after course of the pyramid was completed. An added advantage was the perennial youth and strength of the workers. The years passed, but not a grey hair was seen among them. The men felt vibrant and always full of energy.

All save the Holy One. He aged by the day, growing ever more frail.

It was as if he alone had accepted the burden of their passing years. At first the workers had found the change in him disconcerting, but slowly they had come to love him for it. His physical deterioration made a powerful contrast to their perpetual youth.

When news reached them of the terrible war raging beyond the mist they felt safe here, and when Anu assured them that the building they were constructing would save the cities, and their families, they worked even harder and with greater zeal.

Now it was almost over, Yasha felt curiously bereft.

He stood in the deserted camp staring up at the golden pyramid. One million two hundred thousand blocks of limestone and granite weighing three million tons and standing 250 feet high. One hundred courses of stone, some blocks weighing in excess of 25 tons.

It was a monumental achievement.

Anu had earlier thanked his workers and sent them towards the north to hide in the hills above the stone quarries. 'The enemy is coming now,' he said, his voice so weak that the closest to him had to echo his words for the men behind who could not hear them. 'The enemy will not seek you. They will come to the pyramid and then they will depart in their golden ships. I promise you this. You will return to your homes, and you will receive every part of the fortune promised you. Go now with my blessing.'

Yasha stood alone now outside the hut of the Holy One. Anu had asked him to wait while the others fled. The burly foreman cast his gaze over the deserted shacks that had housed the whores and idly wondered how many women he had enjoyed during the timeless decades that he had worked in this place.